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'As everyone in the room applies tongues to bricks, all I think is, someone's having a laugh'
Having your first child is traumatic. I was so useless I simply did everything the midwives told me, from crawling on all fours after eating fiery curry ("brings on the birth") to stuffing cabbage leaves down my bra ("soothes the breasts"). It was only after fishing some damp cabbage and grated carrot out of my underwear that I thought, waaaaait a minute…
I'd forgotten this until dinner at John Salt. Until our enchanting server asks, straight-faced, "Have you ever licked a brick before?" Just like those midwives, I know he's going back to his colleagues, chortling, "Yep, mine did it. LULZ!"
This nonsensical japery/ground-breaking piece of culinary innovation is the brainchild of Ben Spalding, the chef who wowed us at Simon Rogan's London showcase, Roganic. It's an actual brick coated with brittle caramel. Smeared on top is a lick of chicken liver cream, the salty pop of chicken skin, pickled sweetcorn, lingonberries and onion puree with an undertone of bitter toffee. It's gone in nano-seconds, leaving me with one overwhelming emotion: bewilderment.
Why serve food on something requiring lengthy soaking and three cycles of an industrial dishwasher to get it ready for each caramel coating? As everyone in the room applies tongues to bricks, all I think is, someone's having a laugh.
I guess that'd be Spalding, a chef of considerable ability. I loved his food at Roganic, and there are dishes here that surprise and bewitch: the bright coral of rainbow trout salted and bathed as gently as a newborn in maple syrup, with the washing-up liquid astringency of kaffir lime and – a play on truite aux amandes? – toasted almonds. There's risotto, rich with seasonal, honky vacherin, nuggets of duck skin on top and vinaigrette made with toasted cucumber. Or a widly savoury, sticky heel of beef with kimchi and "unstrained cooking juices". Or, as we know it, gravy. I can't get enough of outlandishly good bread with living butter from "Butter Viking" Patrik Johansson, served straight, cut with buttermilk whey, or whipped into a delirious cream seasoned with homemade "bonfire" sea salt.
Some dishes don't cut it. Macchaevelli (sic) egg, an imported Italian number with yolks as orange as an Essex debutante, is a hymn to glutinous: waxy mousse of Yukon gold potatoes, chunks of atonal smoked watermelon and sulphurous kale juice. Is this a nod to Dabbous, whose oversubscribed frenzy John Salt is already emulating?
And, my, the clunkers: spiced pomegranate and apple juice that tastes of scented candles called something like "Thanksgiving at Grandma's". A chunk of hen of the woods with douglas fir crumbs, sticky persimmon goo and blowtorched lettuce – yep, blowtorched– delivers the faintest reminiscence of chicken and mushroom Chinese takeaway. The real doozy is a pneumatic scallop sandwiching culatello (good idea) and kiwi fruit (bad idea). A dandruff of underpowered truffle is grated on top. We're to eat it with our hands, burger-style, but with its slippery, cider-butter dressing, it's impossible to do so without its contents skiting all over the shop. Another joke on us?
Spalding has got what it takes, but I suspect it was Rogan's firm hand that helped create the pyrotechnics at Roganic. Here, it's all gone a bit rogue catherine wheel: occasionally thrilling, occasionally alarming. You'll struggle to find a critical word about the place online: this is fayn daynin' for the dude food generation, and they're salivating accordingly. Despite splashing out on exquisite crockery and first-rate FOH, the experience is Spartan: hot, noisy and with tables seemingly made from Jewson's offcuts. Maybe they got a job-lot discount with the bricks.
If the kitchen wasn't straining to hit 11, we'd have something truly extraordinary here. The less tortured bar food is an unconditional wow. And perhaps these are just birthing wobbles, too. This new baby just needs to do a bit of growing up.
• John Salt, 131 Upper Street, London N1, 020-7704 8955. Open dinner, Tue-Sat, 6-10pm; Sat brunch, 10am-3pm; Sun lunch noon-4pm. Set menus: four-course, £28, eight £56, 12 £85, plus drinks and service.
Food 7/10
Atmosphere 6/10
Value for money 8/10